Burn
by Steffi Hoffman
Summary: When a fire threatens to engulf the lower town, a certain blonde prat is in danger yet again. This time, however, Merlin cannot use magic to save him. No slash. My first fan fic!
1. Chapter 1

This story in unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of the characters and settings. It all belongs to the BBC.

Prologue

It was a dry year in Camelot. Every day, the sun rose with little or no cloud cover and scorched the land below with its blistering rays. There had been just enough rain for farmers to bring in the harvest. Granted, it was not as much food as usual, but it was enough for the people of the lower town to get by, plus a little extra. The nobility and people in the citadel barely even felt the lack of food. Overall, life wasn't bad, and, though it was dry everywhere and hadn't rained for months, the people in the Pendragon kingdom prospered.

* * *

><p>Deep in the woods that backed up to the lower town, in a clearing, a band of traders was passing through. They had just stopped at Camelot and negotiated with the king and wished to get to their homes in Mercia as fast as possible. Wanting to save their money, rather than stay at an inn, they stopped in the clearing to rest and get some sleep before continuing on. They built a fire, cooked some freshly caught game, and then unrolled their bedrolls for the night.<p>

When morning came, one of the men woke to find that his blanket had been taken by another and so immediately tackled the guilty party in question. This caused quite a stir among the rest. An all out brawl broke out, with men punching and biting each other every which way. After finally wearing themselves out, they all had a good laugh, and the man who started it all got his blanket back. Then, they went on their way. Upon leaving the clearing, the men were so tied up in thoughts and chuckles about what just occurred that they failed to notice the birds singing in the little bit less than green forest, the dry grass that crunched under their horse's hooves, the brook nearby that was running lower than it should have been, and the small spark of the fire they had built that was not quite extinguished. They did not notice the spark turn into a small flame. They did not notice the flame hungrily reach out for the dry grass surrounding it, setting it alight.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Merlin stood nearby the training grounds, watching Arthur fight. It was already past midday, and Arthur had been training since early this morning, arriving before most of the rest of the knights themselves. He had long ago dismissed the rest of the knights. Only Leon, who he was sparring with, remained. Though he was doing well, Merlin knew that he had to be tiring and so was watching closely. Normally cool-headed in a fight, Arthur was being reckless; that much he could see. However, his ferocity made up for it. Even from where Merlin stood, he could tell that Arthur was letting out his anger and aggression through his sword.

He thought back to what had happened last night.

* * *

><p>Arthur, with Merlin's help, had managed to sneak away for an outing with Gwen. They had come back late in the evening, laughing and grinning. Arthur walked Gwen to her home, stooped and kissed her once more, and then set off towards the castle as Gwen walked inside. Merlin had met Arthur inside the courtyard to take the horses, and couldn't resist a little ribbing on the side.<p>

"Have fun today, Sire?"

"Shut up, Merlin."

But Merlin could tell that Arthur was struggling to hide a smile and had grinned to himself as he settled the horses in for the night and straightened up around the stables. That task finished, he turned to go to Arthur's chambers to see what else the prince required of him. However, as he approached the rooms of the prince, he could hear raised voices within. One was unmistakably Arthur. As Merlin inched closer, he realized the other was his father, Uther. All of the other household servants passing by took one glance at the room and then rushed away, deciding that a longer route to their destinations was probably better than falling into the warpath of the two battling Pendragons. Merlin himself moved still closer, until he was able to hear what the quarrel was about.

"You missed the discussions with the traders from Mercia." This was Uther, his voice rumbling through the door.

"I am aware of that, Father, but I believed that, as they were smaller tradesmen, I was not needed. I decided to go for a hunt." Now came Arthur's voice, respectful, but with a tone of warning. Merlin recognized it, and knew that Arthur was barely holding his temper in check. Why Uther thought it necessary to bother him about something so trivial, Merlin couldn't have guessed.

"The importance of the traders is not the point, Arthur! You have been missing little appointments here and there for a while now. Don't think I haven't noticed! I expect better from you."

"Father, I have never missed anything of import. I have been present at all council meetings, banquets…" Here Uther cut Arthur off.

"Damn it, Arthur! I don't care what events you have attended. I care which ones you have not! You had been doing so well. I was seeing promise, but not anymore! A good king needs to be there to negotiate and listen to everything. Your lack of presence shows me that you are not even close to being ready to become king. You are foolish and do not think. I hope that I live for a good while yet, so that I can make sure the throne is still in good hands. Right now, I shudder to think about what might happen if you were on it!"

"Father…" But Uther wouldn't listen.

"From now on, you will be attending all meetings and events. The only times you are excused are when you are training and carrying out other duties. You will not go hunting. You will not be idle. You will show that you are worthy of being the Crown Prince, and of being my son. Is that understood?"

Arthur's voice was stony, just holding back his anger. "Yes, my lord."

"Good." With that, Merlin heard Uther turn towards the door. He frantically rushed down the corridor and managed to look like he was busy and just going to Arthur's chambers, rather than listening at the door, as Uther exited. As he passed, Merlin bowed respectfully. Uther continued on without even giving him a glance. Merlin then entered Arthur's rooms. He found him pacing.

"Arthur…" Here Merlin stopped, unsure of how to begin. What Uther had said to Arthur was not only untrue, but unfair. Arthur had been doing his duties and quite a bit more. Merlin knew for a fact that he was constantly working on papers, coming up with ways to better the kingdom, and advising his cold father (respectfully, of course) in ways that they could help the peasants. Besides that, he was in charge of Camelot's army and training, and worked harder than any of the soldiers and knights to prove that he was worthy of that position. All the army respected and trusted him and looked to him as a brilliant strategist. Over the past year, Merlin had noticed that Uther had been handing more and more responsibilities to Arthur, things that Arthur took care of quickly, efficiently, and, above all, _well_. He would even do things that the king forgot, like take care of the peasants' winter food stores. Merlin knew with absolute certainty, along with everyone else in the kingdom (except Uther, apparently) that Arthur would be a great king.

"I know you heard what my father said, Merlin," Arthur said abruptly, saving Merlin the trouble of bringing up the topic. "Don't bother denying it; I'm sure the entire castle heard how our king believes that I am not fit to rule."

"Arthur, you can't believe that…" Merlin could hear the anger, and, above all, the hurt in Arthur's voice, though he tried to hide it.

"Just go, Merlin. I don't require your services anymore tonight." With that, Arthur turned his back to Merlin, a clear dismissal. Merlin sighed, bowed slightly to Arthur's back, and left the prince alone to his brooding.

* * *

><p>Merlin shook his head slightly, remembering Uther's harsh words to his only son. He turned to watch the fighting once again, having been distracted by the memories.<p>

Suddenly, he frowned. Something was off about Arthur. Leon had just thrust forward, granted brilliantly, but Arthur should have been able to parry it easily. Instead, he appeared to slip and falter just for an instant, allowing Leon's sword to hit the top of his leg, just under his chainmail. How bad the wound was Merlin couldn't tell. Leon immediately stopped.

"My lord, are you alright?" He sounded slightly panicked. Merlin started to run forward.

"It's fine. It's just a scratch." Before either Merlin or Leon could examine the wound, Arthur turned away, ripping the bottom of his training shirt as he did so. He bandaged his leg swiftly and expertly, and then let his chainmail fall back over it. He then turned back to Leon. "Shall we continue?"

Leon and Merlin exchanged glances. Merlin could tell that Leon was reluctant, but knew that he was required to oblige the prince. Merlin stepped back as they took up their swords once again. He watched Arthur carefully for any sign that the wound was bothering him, but Arthur seemed fine. His stride remained unbroken, and his lunges with the sword never lost power. Leon, on the other hand, was fighting differently. As little as Merlin knew about swordplay, he could tell that Leon was not going all out any more, remaining mostly on defense. After a while, Arthur realized this too.

"Go on inside, Leon. If you don't do your best, then don't bother. I will not be molly-coddled."

With that, Leon nodded, bowed respectfully, and left the training grounds. Arthur, however, remained, silently hacking the training dummies to the point of no return.

When he finally stopped, it was late afternoon. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief and started to go over to him, but Arthur, without a word to his loyal manservant, turned and entered the castle. Sighing, Merlin did what he always did: he followed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

By the time Merlin reached Arthur's chambers, Arthur had already strewn his armor in a corner and was struggling with his chainmail. Merlin rushed forward to help him.

As the chainmail was pulled off, Merlin saw Arthur wince ever so slightly. Immediately, he was on high alert, and his eyes went to the hastily bandaged wound on his leg. There was some blood seeping through the cloth.

Noticing Merlin's gaze, Arthur spoke to his manservant for the first time all day, repeating what he had told Leon.

"It's just a scratch, Merlin. I'm fine."

"That looks like more than a scratch, Arthur. You should go see Gaius and make sure it doesn't get infected."

"I said I'm fine, Merlin! Now leave!"

Merlin had had enough. Arthur had been acting sullen all day and had trained far more than he should have. He hadn't even bothered to talk to Merlin, and now his first words were to order him away? And, to top it all off, that wound didn't look very good either. Merlin decided that he couldn't control Arthur's attitude, but he sure as hell could control his physical well being. He put his foot down.

"For once, would you stop playing the supercilious prat and just see that you need a wound looked at? You have been storming around all day like your own personal thunderstorm! You snap at everyone. You barely even talk to me!"

"You are just a servant; you have no right…"

"I may just be a servant, but I am also your friend, even if you are too much of a clotpole to see it! Now you are going to Gaius this instant to have that wound looked at, damn it! Someone has to look out for you, because you are apparently too stupid to look out for yourself!"

After this outburst, Merlin fully expected to be placed in the stocks, or punched at the very least. The last thing he expected was an apology.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Arthur sighed. "I guess what my father said to me last night may have bothered me a little."

Here Merlin snorted. Arthur skillfully ignored him.

"I can't go to Gaius. My father might hear about it. He already thinks so little of me. I don't want him thinking me weak as well."

Merlin nodded, finally understanding. "Alright. I can steal a few things from Gaius's stores. We can patch you up in here, and no one will be the wiser."

He would never forget the look of gratitude on the prince's tired face. "Thank you, Merlin," he said simply. Merlin nodded once again, and set off.

* * *

><p>Thankfully, Gaius was out running errands, so Merlin did not need to bother with coming up with a lie to cover the reason for the herbs and ointments. This was just as well: Gaius could always tell when Merlin was lying.<p>

He carried the things back up to Arthur's chambers, managing not to drop anything, though there were a few close calls. Arthur was ready for him when he stepped into the room.

As always, he was completely stoic as Merlin examined the wound. Merlin, on the other hand, gasped slightly. It was much more than "just a scratch": it was a deep gash that stretched across the whole top of the thigh. How Arthur had kept fighting like it was no big deal, Merlin would never understand. He cleaned and bandaged it as best he could, but he feared infection, and told Arthur so, only to get the standard response.

"Don't be such a _girl_, Merlin! I'll be fine."

With that, Merlin took his leave, and Arthur turned in for the night, ignoring the shooting pain in his leg with every movement and the slight chill that he attributed to the draftiness of the castle.

* * *

><p>Back in the woods, the fire from the campsite continued to grow. It spread hungrily, devouring the dry leaves, grass, branches, and trees, growing bigger and bigger. More and more unstoppable, it raced toward Camelot's lower town, feeding on the underbrush, lighting up the night sky. With every extra branch, it grew wilder and more out of control as it moved toward the unsuspecting, straw-roofed houses.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Arthur was in one of his moods this morning; that Merlin could already tell. No sooner had he walked into the room and awakened the prince did he have to duck out of the way of one of the multitude of goblets that always seemed to be within reach of Arthur's throwing arm. Today, he wasn't quite fast enough, and the goblet smashed into his arm. He let out a yelp, almost dropping Arthur's breakfast tray in the process.

"What was that for?" he complained, dumping the tray unceremoniously on the table in the chambers and rubbing his sore arm. "I haven't even done anything wrong yet."

"_Yet_ being the key word in this situation, _Mer_lin. I am simply doing my duty as Crown Prince of Camelot. As such, I must be prepared for any and all situations, and that includes servants who are almost always late!" Arthur snarled back.

In the silence that followed, Merlin swallowed the derogatory "prat" that almost slipped past his tongue and instead took a long look at Arthur. While the blonde was a master at hiding things, (indeed, he had just almost slipped something past Merlin by simply switching into "prat-mode"), Merlin knew him too well. Although Arthur would never admit it, Merlin was the best friend he ever had, one of the few people that could see past all of the arrogance and bravado into the good-hearted man underneath. Something was bothering Arthur, and Merlin was determined to find out what it was. It was not only his destiny, after all, but his duty as a friend as well.

So he stared at Arthur, watching closely as he moved out of bed and across the room. The prince moved gingerly, limping instead of moving with his usual fluid grace. His face looked flushed, yet he shivered slightly. Without warning, Merlin jumped forward and reached for Arthur's forehead, feeling the heat there before the blonde could recover from his surprise and push Merlin away.

Merlin's heart sank. "Let me see the wound, Arthur."

"_Mer_lin, I already told you: it's fine!" Arthur insisted. Merlin wasn't convinced.

"You have a fever. The wound must have gotten infected. Let me see it."

Arthur finally relented, and Merlin studied the gash. As he had feared, infection had set in.

"Arthur, you need to go see Gaius. I can't do much more for you. Gaius is discrete; he wouldn't tell Uther you went to see him if you asked him not to. Please, Arthur, before you get any worse," Merlin pleaded. He could tell that Arthur wasn't feeling well, despite all protests to the contrary.

"I can't. I have to go sit with my father in a council meeting in a few minutes." Seeing Merlin open his mouth in what would be a vehement protest, he hurried to cut him off. "I'll go see Gaius afterwards, I promise." Merlin still looked murderous, but he nodded, realizing he couldn't expect much more. He helped Arthur get dressed and then watched him walk out the door. He noticed that Arthur had straightened and controlled his limp and shivering before he walked out, leaving the room as if nothing was amiss. Merlin shook his head and cursed Arthur's infuriating pride before starting to straighten his room and polish his armor.

"Oh, and Merlin?" Arthur's voice carried back through the door, and Merlin looked up to see his head sticking in. "Finish what you are doing and meet me in the throne room. If I have to sit through this horrible meeting, there is no reason you shouldn't have to as well."

Merlin sighed, resigned to his fate. "Yes, Sire."

* * *

><p>The fire was huge now, crackling higher and higher, rivaling the brightness of the sun as it blazed into the lower village at speeds unknown. People shrieked in horror and tried to gather belongings and family and escape the fire. It reached greedily for the houses, burning one after another. The men tried to rally and put it out, but a line of buckets from the local water supply could do very little against the wildfire. One man was sent by the rest to go tell the king, as the rest continued to fight both for their homes and lives.<p>

* * *

><p>As predicted, the meeting was horribly boring. Merlin's eyes glazed over as he stood in his place behind Arthur's chair, tired of listening to nobleman after nobleman suck up to the king and try to weasel a bit more power for himself. Merlin could not help but be reluctantly impressed with the way the king dealt with them, negotiating firmly, but politely as well. Arthur was not silent, either. He helped his father, sometimes bringing up little bits of information that the nobleman in question had conveniently forgotten, or negotiating with the man directly himself. Merlin couldn't help but feel that, if Arthur had been any other man's son, the father would be both impressed and proud. As it was, Uther hardly acknowledged his only son and heir except for wordlessly accepting information or shooting him a glare once in a while to remind him of his anger. Arthur, to his credit, took it all in stride, never seeming to let it bother him, even though Merlin knew that it must be tearing him up inside, behind the unreadable blue eyes.<p>

Suddenly, all in the throne room heard a scuffle outside the door, along with muffled shouts of "Hey, what are you doing!" and "You can't go in there!". Curious eyes turned towards the double doors as they burst open and a wild-eyed man rushed inside, smelling of smoke and blackened by soot. The guards were right on his tail, and grabbed him as he shouted pleadingly, "Please, I must speak to the king! Please!" Uther looked at him briefly before turning back to the council, and the man started to be dragged out of the room, now almost sobbing. Just as he reached the door, a voice rang out.

"Wait!"

All eyes turned towards the Crown Prince as he stood and walked towards the man.

"Let him speak."

Looking immensely relieved, the man started to stammer out something about a fire in the lower town. After having to repeat himself a few times due to incoherency, the story was known: a wildfire was ravaging the lower town. Arthur then turned to the guards.

"Round up the knights, and tell them to go to the catacombs and get all of the barrels of emergency water that we own. There is a great amount down there; hopefully it will be enough."

The guards bowed and rushed off. Arthur then, for the first time during the whole discussion, faced his father.

He lowered his head respectfully, and said "Father, may I be excused? I wish to go help them."

Although Merlin never thought very highly of Uther, even he hadn't expected his reaction.

"No, you may not!" the king thundered. "You should not have even given the orders you did. Now what will we do if we are struck by a drought? Our emergency water stores are gone! No, you will stay here. You have caused enough trouble."

Arthur looked uncertain for the briefest second, something only Merlin could pick up, and then appeared to make a decision and steel himself.

"With all due respect, my lord, you have things well in hand here. I am not needed. I am, however needed in the lower town." Arthur took a deep breath, then continued. "Besides, you said that I must not be idle, and fighting fires is anything but."

"I said you must attend your duties, and this meeting is one of them," Uther snarled, his voice lowering dangerously. How dare his son disobey him!

"No, Father! My duty now is to be in the lower town, serving my people. I will not let anything happen to them. _That_ is my true duty, both to Camelot and to myself!" With that, Arthur spun towards the door, head held high, and exited as Uther stuttered, unable, for once, to come up with a reply. Merlin took a quick look at the king and quickly followed his master and friend.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Merlin couldn't help but smile. Arthur had shown the great leader he was inside. Even Uther, rant as he would, now couldn't deny that he would be a fine king.

He raced in the direction that Arthur had gone, knowing that he would be heading straight to the stables. After all, he already had his sword, as he always carried it with him, and armor would be useless against a fire.

He turned the corner to see Arthur still walking with purpose, but now with an extreme limp. As he approached Arthur further, he could see that his face was even more flushed than before. He suddenly remembered that Arthur was supposed to see Gaius after the meeting.

"Arthur?" he began tentatively. "Are you sure that you are ready for this? You still need to see Gaius. Maybe you can make a quick stop there, and then go help?"

"No," Arthur snapped back. "My people are in danger. I will not stop to get a little leg wound checked while they are out there, dying and losing all means of livelihood! I'm going, Merlin, and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

With that, he turned and would have made a brilliant exit, had his leg not chosen that exact moment to give out. Merlin leaped forward to catch him before he could hit the ground. Arthur grimaced as he stood again, and took a few tentative steps while Merlin watched him like a hawk, ready to be of assistance if needed. However, it appeared that the prince had it under control and once again strode towards the castle doors. Merlin shook his head at the stubbornness of his master and then went ahead to prepare the horses.

* * *

><p>He brought Arthur his horse, and watched warily as the blonde sized up the animal, clearly contemplating the best way to mount with his injured leg. Finally, he just gritted his teeth and got on. He let out no sound, but Merlin knew the amount of agony that he went through to perform that simple, everyday act.<p>

With some difficulty of his own, simply because of his clumsiness, Merlin mounted his own horse, and rode up to Arthur. The prince looked at him and frowned.

"Merlin, you aren't coming. It's going to be rather dangerous. You aren't as strong as the rest of the knights. I do not want you getting hurt."

"If I don't come, who will look after you to make sure you don't do anything stupid and life-threatening? Forget it Arthur. I'm coming, and there is nothing you can do to stop me." Arthur smiled a little at having his exact words thrown back at him and simply nodded, riding off to meet the knights who were waiting in the courtyard with the wagons full of barrels of emergency water. Just looking at the number of barrels, Merlin couldn't imagine what use the kingdom could possibly have for so much water, even in a drought. Hopefully, it would be enough to put out the fire.

Arthur got to his position at the front of the knights and gave the order to move out. He led the way, galloping off to the lower town, followed by the knights, the carthorses with the water, and Merlin, in his rightful position just behind the Crown Prince.

* * *

><p>Merlin could feel the heat as they approached the lower town and was horrified to see almost all of it ablaze. The men of the village had formed a sort of assembly line, starting at the local well, passing buckets of water to try to fight off the conflagration, but it was not enough. They could douse the fire a little, but not put it out, and after a while it would rise up as strong as before.<p>

Arthur immediately took in the situation and had his knights spread out, a few to each burning house. He then ordered each group to take a barrel of water. The townsmen, seeing what was planned, also divided to help. Arthur himself ran to one of the groups and, after giving the order, ("Now! On the base of the fire!"), helped to lift the extremely heavy barrel and pour the water out. Flames everywhere were doused more than the townsmen had ever done on their own, but the fires still could not be put out.

"Again!" cried Arthur, and the whole process was repeated. Merlin did what he could, but, as Arthur had pointed out, he was not strong enough to help with the lifting, so he helped the women and children who still watched the flames back away and get to safety.

The knights were tiring, not to mention the townsmen, but the third round of barrel pouring brought some success. A few of the houses had been put out, and the others had flames that were not as high.

Before the men could feel good about their progress, however, the unpredictable flame leapt onto one of the few unburned houses that were left, right near the one Arthur was putting out. Arthur sighed and started to order new men around the house with barrels of water, when a high-pitched shriek filled with fear rang out over the din, followed by a cry of one of the women standing nearby.

"My daughter! She's still in the house! My daughter!"

Merlin turned in horror and looked at the house. The only door in was already completely blocked with flames, and the roof looked ready to collapse. As Merlin watched the men run for another barrel, knowing that they would be too late to help the little girl, he saw a figure sprinting towards the house out of the corner of his eye. He turned just in time to see a mass of blonde hair covered in soot before the man dove into the deadly flames of the house, going after the little girl.

"Arthur! NO!"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Arthur heard the child's screams, and his blood ran cold. He had seen many sorcerers put to death by being burned at the stake at the order of his father, had heard their cries of agony and begs for death. Although he knew that sorcerers were evil, it was not a death he would wish on anyone, especially not an innocent little girl. Ignoring all pain in his leg and the fever coursing through his body, he left his station at the barrel and sprinted for the house, running past Merlin's horrified face.

He knew the door was already blocked by the fast moving fire, but there was no other way to get into the house. Not hesitating for a second, he plunged into the flames.

He felt his clothes catch fire as he ran through, felt the agony as his flesh was burned, but ignored it. This girl was in trouble. He searched through the front room of the small two room house, trying to see through the flames and smoke that had already filled the whole building. Listening intently, he could just hear the coughing of the little girl. He moved to the sound, going into the second room. It was getting harder to see, and he was beginning to cough as smoke filled his lungs. He scanned the room once more, not seeing anything.

Wait! What was that? Arthur looked more closely at the far corner of the room. He could barely make out a small figure, huddled against the back wall. He quickly moved to it.

It was the little girl, curled up in a ball in the corner of the room, clutching a small doll. Eyes wide with fear, she gazed up at Arthur.

"It's all right," he murmured to her. "I'm here to help you. You're safe now." As he spoke these last words, he knew that they were far from the truth. To get back outside, they needed to go back to the front room and out the door. Said room, however, was already completely full of flames, and was probably about to collapse. Gritting his teeth against all pain, Arthur bent down and picked up the little girl, and started to run back to the door, back into the flames threatening to engulf the house and everything and everyone inside of it.

* * *

><p>Merlin was frantic. He had just seen Arthur, Crown Prince of Camelot, sole heir to the throne, and, most importantly, his friend, dash into a burning house. Now the door was completely blocked, and there was no way in to help.<p>

The knights were all staring in horror at the spot where their commander had just disappeared. Knowing that they would be no help, Merlin started trying to devise a plan.

He immediately thought of his magic. He knew that he could summon up water that would put out the fire instantly. The thought that everyone would see him using magic, the very thing that was banned from the kingdom, did little to slow him down. He knew that the obvious use of magic would land him on a fiery pier of his own, but it just didn't seem important. His best friend was in a burning house, wounded and with a raging fever, trying to save a little girl. Whatever happened to him, Merlin knew that he would gladly give his life to save a man who would selflessly sacrifice himself for the child of a peasant he did not know.

Just as he called on the magic that, to him, was as natural as breathing, he stopped and studied the house more closely. The fire had already weakened the supports greatly, and any added pressure, (including a blast of conjured water to put out the blaze), would flatten the house and all in it immediately. Magic, then, was out of the question.

As Merlin tried to think up another plan with the limited resources available, he heard the knights, led by Leon, try to get as many barrels of water over to the house as possible. They had redoubled their efforts at putting out the fires after the prince disappeared into the flames. However, the barrels were heavy, and the wagon in which they were held was situated far from the house in question. Merlin knew they could not get there in time.

He turned from the fire for an instant to watch the knight's progress, still trying to find something to do, some way that he could help. He saw Leon break away and approach him, only to see something akin to fear cross his face as he stared at the fire behind Merlin.

Merlin spun around as a horrible cracking sound filled the air. He could do nothing but watch as his worst fear was realized, and the foundation of the house collapsed, the roof falling on top of the rubble with a sickening thud, fire still surrounding everything.

He heard a ghastly howl, screaming above the flames, shrieking its denial at the sky. He wondered for a split second who could possibly be making this sound, before realizing that the voice was his own.

"NO! ARTHUR!"

He ran toward the flames that still enveloped the house, the heat unbearable. He had almost made it when he felt strong arms grab him and hold him back. Craning his neck to see who had dared stop his rescue attempt, he saw Leon.

"Let me go," he pleaded the bearded man. "I have to help him. Please, let me go."

"There's nothing you can do, Merlin," Leon told him, tears for his young commander and friend starting to trickle from his eyes. He had worked with Arthur since he was a teenager, back when he had been rash and eager to prove himself, and had watched him grow into the man he was today. He knew that he could be arrogant, but underneath it all was a heart of gold, always ready to do whatever it took. Give whatever was needed. This time, however, Leon could not help but think that the prince had given too much. "He's…" Here his voice broke. "He's gone."

"No," Merlin whispered. No. This couldn't be happening. Arthur was meant to unite all of Albion. It was his destiny to be the greatest king the world had ever known. And Merlin was supposed to protect him. He had failed, failed his destiny, failed magic, and failed his friend. He held back a sob as he looked at the still burning house, the final resting place of his best friend, the greatest man he had ever known.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

Arthur struggled against the flames, lungs filled with smoke as he attempted to find a way to the door that was not completely overrun by the fire. Dark smoke hung in the air, so thick it could almost be grabbed and held. He held the little girl to his chest. He had wrapped her in his jacket, and she clutched at his shirt, burying her small head in his chest. He was so covered in sweat from the heat that he almost didn't feel the tears that soaked him to the skin as she sobbed quietly. Arthur knew he had to get her out.

Giving up on finding a safe way out, as the blaze was everywhere, he decided to go the most direct route: through the flames and to the door. Unfortunately, the door was difficult to find through the flames and smoke. It took all of his skill as a hunter to "track" down the door, finally spotting it with his keen eyes.

Head growing light from the lack of oxygen, Arthur called on all his training. As he had been taught since he was a child, he buried his fears in the back of his mind, along with his ever weakening leg and body that was slowly failing him with fever and smoke inhalation. Clearing his mind, he clutched the girl tighter and plunged into the fire.

The agony of the first few steps was almost his undoing. The flames licked his legs all the way up to his torso, almost hungrily tasting the flesh. It was worse than anything he had felt in his entire life. It took all of his will power not to pass out, but he could not stop a small scream from escaping his lips, the sound lost in the roar and crackle of the fire.

It would be much easier to just give in, to give in to the darkness, to give in to the pain. It would all be over. The agony would stop.

Arthur shook these thoughts out of his head and looked down at the little girl. Miraculously, she was still unburned, his heavy jacket protecting her from the worst of the blaze. He needed to be strong for her. With that thought in mind, he kept running for the door.

He had almost made it when his leg gave out. He crashed to the floor, managing to roll at the last second to cushion the girl's fall with his body. They had fallen only a little ways from the door, but it might as well have been a mile.

Arthur began crawling towards it, dragging his leg behind him and cradling the girl with one arm. The fire still blazed around him, but he had become numb. Nothing hurt anymore. He could feel the heat, but not the burn. He was only a few feet away from the door when the roof caved in.

* * *

><p>Merlin stared at the house through his tears. After all they had been through, after all they had survived, Arthur had died one of the most horrible deaths known to man. He had always believed that he would go out in a blaze of glory, not killed like one of the sorcerers that his father so despised. He blinked, and hated the wetness that fell down his cheeks. He could almost hear Arthur, the blonde's voice ringing in his head as if he was right next to him:<p>

"Don't be such a _girl_, Merlin!"

He could not believe that his best friend was…no. He wouldn't think it. He refused to believe it.

Shaking off Leon's hand, he turned and ran back to the barrels. Grabbing a knight's discarded cloak, he soaked it in water and then wrapped himself in it. It was cold and wet, but should protect him from the worst of the flames. He turned back to the house, and saw Leon staring at him curiously.

"I can't just stand here and do nothing," Merlin declared. He saw Leon open his mouth in objection, but he pushed past him and sprinted over to the house, dashing for the rubble. He wasn't going to believe that Arthur was dead until he held his cold, lifeless body in his arms.

* * *

><p>Arthur was now surviving solely for the girl. His body had long since stopped feeling like his own.<p>

When the roof collapsed, a section had fallen straight for them. Reaching into the last of his reserves of strength, Arthur covered the girl with his own body and somehow managed to catch the piece of roof. It was now balanced on his back, still burning. He tried to stand up to throw it off them, but it was no use. He was spent. It was all he could do to make sure it did not fall onto the small child. He concentrated on this task, contenting himself with keeping the girl safe as the fire slowly burned everything around them, including his back.

Although he was putting everything he had into holding up the ceiling, he felt as though he had the sky on his shoulders. His bad leg was no help, and he could see darkness creeping in at the sides of his eyes. His lungs were filled with smoke, and it was getting to be impossible to breathe.

Arthur thought that it was smoke inhalation that caused him to suddenly see the figure in front of him. It was as tall as a man, but draped in something that could be a blanket or a cloak. The creature stretched out a hand to him, tugging on his arm, trying to get him to come with it. Arthur shook his head and managed to croak out "the girl".

The figure didn't seem to understand and reached for his arm again, pulling more insistently. Arthur wrenched his arm away and shoved the little girl towards the being. It now seemed to realize what he wanted and reluctantly picked up the girl and backed away. As it did so, Arthur managed to glimpse a pair of familiar looking blue eyes that looked at him with hurt, regret, and fear. He watched it run out of the house, out into the fresh, cool air, little girl in tow.

Satisfied that the girl was safe, Arthur finally collapsed onto the ground, the roof falling on top of him. He could not find the strength to move it, and the weight pinned him to the ground more effectively than ten men. He could not remember how he had managed to hold it up before. It seemed impossible now.

He felt no pain. He felt no regrets. Surely it was as honorable to die for your subjects in a fire as it was to die for them on a battlefield.

He only looked at his surroundings, knowing these were his final moments. He looked at the flames surrounding him, looked at the house fallen about him, looked at the door, now an impossible goal.

He looked, and then he finally gave in to the darkness and knew no more.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Merlin had tried to rescue his prince, but the prat just _had_ to do his duty to the end. Merlin ran out of the house, to the amazement of the knights, carrying the girl and taking her to her mother. He wasted no time in sprinting back to the house after leaving the girl in capable maternal hands, cursing Arthur's sense of duty all the way.

He was alive when Merlin had left him; Merlin could only hope he remained that way.

Arriving at the structure, he was horrified to see no sign of Arthur amidst the rubble and flames. He ran to the place where he had last seen him, looking around frantically. His sharp eyes just caught a glimpse of blonde hair underneath of an enormous slab of roof. Merlin realized that, in a testament to the Crown Prince's loyalty to his subjects and determination, Arthur had been holding this gigantic piece up and away from the girl.

Pushing some of the rubble aside, still wrapped in the wet cloak, Merlin located an arm and tugged, trying to pull Arthur out from under the debris. The weight of the roof on top of the unconscious prince was too great, however, and Merlin only succeeded in falling backwards as he suddenly lost the game of tug-of-war with the arm. He then pushed on the roof with all his might, trying desperately to move it. It would not budge.

He needed help, and fast.

Reluctantly, he abandoned his friend once again under the flaming rubble, this time cursing himself. He ran over to Leon, who had been approaching as he got over the shock of seeing Merlin return alive from the flames with the child.

Panting, Merlin spoke: "Arthur is still alive." He watched Leon's eyes widen with sudden hope and then fill with worry as he looked at the ruins of the house. "But," Merlin added, "there is a huge piece of the roof on top of him. I can't move it. We need the knights, and quickly. I don't know how much longer he can last."

Leon immediately sprang into action. He called the knights over, and he, Merlin, and Camelot's finest ran to the house. Upon reaching it, they all took different positions around the roof. At Leon's command, they lifted, their muscles straining as it took all the knights of Camelot to haul up the board that the prince had managed to hold up on his own to protect his subject.

Merlin, knowing that he was not as strong as the knights, hung back. The roof was raised agonizingly slowly. As soon as it was off of Arthur, Merlin darted into the middle of rubble and pulled him away. Leon assisted, and soon they had their prince a safe distance from the house.

Merlin then proceeded to study him. The wound in his leg had started bleeding again, but it was the horrible burns along the sides of his body and all over his back that made his breath catch in his throat. The burns on his back, where Arthur had held up the burning roof, were the worst. Merlin gagged at the sight of them. Almost all of his skin had been burned away, leaving angry, red, mangled flesh. Merlin took a deep breath and reached for his neck to feel for a pulse, trying to touch as little of the prince's injured body as possible.

He laid his fingers gently on the side of the blonde man's neck and concentrated. Nothing. Merlin frowned, adjusted his grip slightly, and tried again. Still nothing. Starting to panic, Merlin tried his wrist. Still nothing…wait! There it was, a pulse so faint it was easy to miss. It was irregular, however, stopping and beating at uneven intervals.

Merlin tried to wake Arthur, not really surprised when he was unsuccessful, and then finally noticed his breathing. Arthur's chest was barely moving up and down, but when Merlin bent down and listened, it was ragged. It sounded like Arthur was choking on something and could not get enough air.

Merlin realized not all of Arthur's injuries were visible: he had inhaled too much smoke. Shaking slightly, Merlin turned to Leon.

"We have to get him to Gaius," he said softly. "Now."

Leon did not need to be told twice. He lifted Arthur's limp form easily, and then the pair moved quickly to the horses, leaving the rest of the knights to deal with the remaining fires. After a slight hesitation, Merlin mounted and turned to take Arthur from Leon, supporting his friend's body as they hastily rode back to Camelot.

* * *

><p>Merlin was in a state on disbelief and denial the whole ride back to the citadel. He had been given one job in life and one job only: protect the Crown Prince of Camelot, whose destiny was to unite the lands of Albion and return magic to the land. He would be the One True King, the Once and Future King. All that was needed of Merlin was vigilance and protection.<p>

He had failed in both.

Gulping, Merlin looked down at the limp form in front of him. Arthur, usually so proud and strong, was draped over the horse, looking weaker than Merlin had ever seen him. His body seemed like a rag doll as it jerked and bounced slightly with every movement of the horse, despite Merlin's best efforts to keep him still.

If only he had reacted sooner. He could have stopped Arthur from running into the flames. He could have at least put the fire out with magic before the house got to be too unstable. He could have…he could have…Merlin didn't quite know what else he could have done, but he was torn by the sense of guilt anyway. He hated seeing his best friend in the world so close to death and that he was unable to do anything about it.

"If only," Merlin thought. "If only this could have been me." He tried valiantly to hold back a sob, but some of the treacherous tears slipped out against his will. A few dropped on Arthur's body, the water causing streaks on his skin as they dripped and washed away some of the soot.

Glancing up, Merlin saw Leon looking at him. Somehow, however, he could not bring himself to care that the knight saw him crying. His own pride didn't matter when Arthur's life was at stake.

So, it was through blurry eyes that Merlin saw the gates of Camelot open. It was with blurry eyes that he rode into the courtyard and heard Leon calling for Gaius. It was with blurry eyes that he saw Uther, looking murderous, come storming down the steps, mouth open wide to shout at his only son.

Merlin almost couldn't believe it when Uther's look of rage changed to one of grief and concern and the shout turned into a soft, disbelieving murmur:

"Arthur?"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

Leon quickly picked Arthur's prone form up off the horse and started to hurry him to Gaius's quarters, the king following behind in a state of uncertainty and shock, something Merlin would have found amusing had it not been for the circumstances. Merlin himself ran on ahead, reaching the physician's room first and clearing away the examination table immediately, knocking everything to the floor.

"Merlin!" He heard an angry voice coming from the other side of the room, and turned to face Gaius. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Arthur," was all Merlin answered. Gaius needed no more explanation and turned to face the door as Leon burst in, still bearing the prince.

"Put him on the table," the old man ordered. As soon as Leon complied, Gaius began to study the blonde, face going grim as he did so.

"Well? Will he be alright?"

Everyone in the room started a bit and turned towards the sound of the voice. Merlin had forgotten that Uther was present and looking forlornly at his son. Gaius glanced at Merlin and then cleared his throat.

"I do not know, Sire. I need space to examine him. If you would all leave now, please, so that I may do my work."

The mighty king immediately complied, obeying the order without protest. Leon followed, casting one last worried glance back at his prince before shutting the door behind him.

Merlin turned to Gaius.

"What can I do?" he pleaded. Gaius shook his head.

"The burns on his body are severe, but they are not my greatest concern right now. Nor is the fever that appears to be from a less recent wound." Here Gaius glared at Merlin, who looked away sheepishly. "What worries me most is his breathing. He had inhaled too much smoke. His body is failing him, and that, combined with the fever that makes him weaker than usual, is very dangerous. If he doesn't get some oxygen soon, he will die."

Merlin's head spun. Arthur couldn't die. He would not let it happen. He turned back to Gaius.

"What can you do?" he asked.

Gaius simply looked at him sadly. "That's just it, Merlin. I don't know what to do."

Merlin was in despair. Now what to do? He could almost hear his destiny slipping away, feel his other half losing his grip on life. He couldn't stop it, couldn't prevent it…Wait! He had an idea.

"Gaius, oxygen is in the air, right?" Gaius nodded. "So, to get as much oxygen as possible, Arthur needs to have as much air shoved into him as possible, right?" Gaius nodded again.

Merlin took a deep breath, knowing what he had to do.

"Help me prop him up."

* * *

><p>Together, Gaius and Merlin managed to get Arthur's dead weight into a sitting position. Then, with the old man still supporting the prince, Merlin reached for his magic, eyes glowing gold.<p>

This time, he used it to feel the elements. He could feel the fires slowly dying in the lower town, could feel the life of the grass and the trees, could feel the rushing of the water. Most importantly, however, he could feel the currents of the air as it ebbed and flowed, moving around their bodies, ever present but never seen.

Merlin mentally reached out for the air. It responded to his touch, swirling around him, eager to please. Concentrating, he gave it an experimental nudge, and it moved in the direction that he pushed it. Convinced that he was now in control, he grabbed at the air and shoved it full force towards Arthur, willing it to rush into the unconscious prince, down his windpipe and into his lungs. The air forced itself into all cavities, expelling all of the smoke. Arthur jerked with the sudden pressure, and Merlin suddenly feared that his weakened body could not handle such a change all at once.

He tried to call off the air, take it out of the lungs and return it to its rightful place, but it did not wish to comply. It needed to leave on its own accord. Merlin waited anxiously until he finally saw that the balance of the air was now normal. Then he finally separated himself from the earth and nature, his golden eyes fading back to their normal blue.

He looked uncertainly at Arthur. The prince did not seem to be moving or responding. In fact, he did not seem to be breathing at all! Merlin was struck by a terrible thought: what if he had just killed the very man he was trying to save? He would never get to use magic openly! He would be the downfall of Albion! He would never…

Arthur coughed.

It was a weak cough, a sign of the ordeal that he had been through. It was raspy and soft, not even close to the Crown Prince's normal commanding volume. But, it was a cough.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief as Arthur coughed again, and then opened his eyes, the brilliant blue finally visible. The prince tried to move, but gasped in pain. Gaius hastily moved to his side.

"Sire, I need to treat and bandage the wounds on your back, as well as your fever. Then we shall take you to your chambers."

Arthur nodded, a weak bobbing of the head. He then turned to Merlin, worry in his eyes.

"The girl," he whispered. "Is she alright?"

Merlin grinned. "She's fine, Sire. You saved her."

Arthur smiled and then closed his eyes. Merlin could tell by his rhythmic breathing that he had fallen asleep. He watched his friend with a sense of relief.

Arthur was not out of the woods yet, but he wasn't in immediate danger of dying. Gaius could treat the wounds. All was well. Destiny was still in play.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Gaius had Arthur moved to his rooms, and continued treating him there. Arthur's burns were severe. Merlin was constantly on alert, checking to make sure they did not get infected and changing Arthur's bandages, often having to rub ointment on the burns. He was glad that Arthur was unconscious most of the time. The prince's screams still echoed in his mind from the last time that he was aware when Merlin treated him. After that experience, Gaius and Merlin agreed that it was best if Arthur was kept on tonics that put him in a deep sleep.

His fever was worrisome, and more than once Merlin had to stay with him all night, wiping his brow with a cool cloth and holding him still as he thrashed about to ensure that he would not damage his back more. Thanks to Gaius's care, however, it soon passed, leaving just the wounds to worry about. In time, these healed as well.

During the times when he was unconscious, Uther visited often. As Arthur began to become more aware, though, he visited less and less, leaving his son to recover on his own. Merlin watched as Uther slipped from concerned father back into unfeeling king, and could not help but feel sorry for Arthur. The prince himself never spoke of these encounters, and Merlin never mentioned it as he helped nurse him back to health as his back slowly healed.

* * *

><p>Arthur walked confidently down the hall, Merlin trailing behind. Although Arthur still felt some pain in his back as his moved, he was well enough to train once again, and not a moment too soon. He was never one for being idle. He marched into the throne room, ready to resume his duties as Crown Prince.<p>

The court session was already in progress, but no one remarked on the prince's slight tardiness as he moved to his father's side and jumped into the discussions and negotiations as though he had never been absent.

Merlin stood behind him, as usual. He had never cared for these meetings, and tuned them out as best he could. The topics discussed were always like another language to him. He sighed inwardly, trying to think of anything other than the happenings in the throne room.

He blinked at the sudden rush of movement and exiting people. He must have zoned out longer than he thought. He watched Arthur give a formal nod to this father before going to leave as well, and he moved to once again to follow.

Just as the prince reached the doors, however, Merlin heard Uther call his name:

"Arthur. A word."

Arthur motioned for Merlin to wait outside and moved back towards his father. "Yes, Sire?"

Merlin left the room, but looked up and down the hallway. Seeing that no one was there, he snuck back to the door, putting his ear to the keyhole to listen. He could hear Uther's voice through the door as he spoke to his son:

"You should be thankful that we never needed the extra water. I took care of restocking in your…absence. Camelot need not fear a drought any longer."

Merlin frowned. After all Arthur had done for the kingdom, the king still wanted to complain to him about using the emergency water to put out the fires in the lower town? What kind of a king was he?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Arthur's voice, the low tones echoing proudly and clearly throughout the throne room:

"I am glad to hear it, Father. I am sorry to have caused such an inconvenience with my actions. If that is all, I should be going. I have to train my knights."

Merlin heard footsteps as Arthur turned to leave and started to hurry away, to look busy, to look like he was doing anything other than listening at the door. Both he and Arthur halted, however, as Uther spoke again.

"Arthur, wait."

From the scuffling of Arthur's feet, he had turned around to face his father once again. Merlin was surprised to hear a sort of sigh, old and weary, from within. Surely that couldn't be Uther, the mighty king who would execute anyone possibly associated with magic? Surely not.

"Arthur," Uther began. "I was…concerned…when you came back from the fire."

"Well, I am fine now, Father." Arthur sounded confused, not that Merlin blamed him. Uther had never been one for expressing any sort of anxiety or worry and had certainly never come close to commenting on his son's injuries.

"Yes, but when you came back…I was afraid that…that…"Another sigh. "I feared that the last words that I spoke to you were a little bit harsh."

Merlin barely contained a snort. Both the king and his son seemed to have a talent for understatements.

"Your actions have proven that you care for the people and that you are capable of quick thinking. Without you, the lower town would have been lost, and then where would we be without some of our trade and labor sources?"

Merlin snorted again. Leave it to the king to think of the people as economic possessions, not human beings. He was glad that Arthur was not like his father. He actually cared.

"I just wanted to say that I have done some reconsidering of my earlier statements," Uther continued. "You might just make a good king yet."

"Thank you, Father." Arthur turned to go once again. Merlin winced. How could the king be so unfeeling and callous? Couldn't he see what a good job Arthur was doing?

He backed away as the doors open, and Arthur started to step out, only to be halted once again by Uther.

"Arthur? I'm…I'm proud of you."

Merlin saw Arthur smile and nod, taking his leave. He watched as the prince shut the door and composed himself before starting to stride down the corridor. He smiled to himself. Arthur had finally gotten the acknowledgement he so craved. He deserved it.

Of course, Merlin couldn't resist a little teasing.

"So, Sire…," Merlin said as he quickly caught up with Arthur's purposeful gait. "Anything interesting happen? Anything that might compliment your day?"

Arthur shot him a glance.

"Shut up, _Mer_lin."

But Merlin could once again see the smile that Arthur was barely concealing and grinned.

"Now, _Mer_lin, I have a lot of things to do, so you better get busy. I need you to clean my jacket (there is a banquet coming up), polish my sword, clean my armor, muck out the stables…"

As Arthur rattled off a long list of chores, Merlin groaned. Life truly had gone back to normal.


End file.
